


A Distant Place

by lodgedinmythoughts



Series: Coming Home [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Domesticity, Eventual Bucky/Reader but not yet with this one, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of Steve's family - Freeform, Old Steve Rogers, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Reader has a lot to work through, Reunions and Visits, Rocky road to recovery, Steve ships you and Bucky, Unrequited Love, everyone still needs a hug, learning to cope
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-08
Updated: 2019-05-08
Packaged: 2020-02-28 17:54:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18761437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lodgedinmythoughts/pseuds/lodgedinmythoughts
Summary: Some weeks following the day after which nothing would be the same, you and Bucky pay a visit to an old friend.Follows Infinity in His Eyes.





	A Distant Place

_The one who left wanted everything_  
_The one who stayed never wanted more_  
_It's not your choice, it's how you're built_  
_It's in a blueprint of your soul_  
_The one who left, he dropped his smile_  
_And they sat quiet for a while_  
_Then the one who stayed began to speak_  
_And in his words, he answered why_

-Regina Spektor, ["The One Who Stayed and the One Who Left"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3n81BNbVLdo)

. . .

Dinner was an intimate affair.

You insisted on cooking. Bucky helped out here and there, as he hadn’t exactly had much opportunity to practice, and Steve attempted to help before you shooed him away, ignoring the mutters under his breath about how it was his house and he should have been the cook.

In the end, the homey offering of pot roast and gravy with vegetables and mashed potatoes was, to everyone’s comfort, a rich, hearty and filling meal. The antique chandelier cast a warm, cozy glow throughout the kitchen as everyone ate. Beyond the sheer-curtained windows, the tranquil waters of the lake glistened in the moonlight.

It was a relatively uncomplicated process for Steve to bag the small rustic lake house. Though nothing fancy, it was still a coveted property with its sturdy build and proximity to the water.

“He’s Captain America,” Bucky had said wryly as you took a tour of the cabin after having arrived. “Or was. The whole world would bend over backwards for the guy. Not that he’d ever let ’em.”

The conversation over dinner was of the more lighthearted variety. The two men reminisced about their shared past, all the way from childhood to young adulthood. You interjected with questions and shook your head in disbelief at the things they’d gotten up to, after which you were roped into sharing some shenanigans of your own past.

Quiet cheer seemed to be the order of the evening. Though it weighed like a two-ton brick on every heart, none present spoke of the aftermath the world was still learning to wade through. No one spoke of the actions that had hit closer to home, of how all it took was the blink of an eye before your lives were irrevocably changed and nothing and no one would ever be the same.

That would be for another time, when wounds weren’t so fresh and scars had begun their slow and steady creep into the light. No, tonight was a night for those hard-earned and bittersweet reintroductions to some semblance of peace of mind in whatever shape it took.

Dinner was followed by a small dessert of chocolate mousse.

“I don’t have much of a sweet tooth these days, but this knocks everything I’ve had the past couple weeks out of the park,” Steve told you with a warm smile.

Across the table, Bucky remained silent. You locked eyes simultaneously and the only indication that he also enjoyed the food was the way he broke eye contact to scoop up another spoonful, the corner of his lips twitching in a shadow of a smile.

Things were going well. Your heart was on standby. Maybe you wouldn’t break at the drop of a hat.

Then the conversation shifted and there were more memories shared, but this time they were from Steve about Peggy, stories of the life they’d made together.

You fidgeted in your seat and attempted a smile, but the pretense grew impossible to keep up once he brought up the children, grandchildren and even great-grandchildren they went on to have.

He and Bucky were saying something, you didn’t know what, when you felt something inside you snap, leaving you tethered together by only a frayed, tenuous thread.

You stood abruptly, chair scraping against the floor in protest, all the while avoiding their eyes so they wouldn’t see the way yours shone. After gathering your plate, you twisted around for the sink and did your best not to yank on the faucet to switch the water on.

“You don’t have to wash up,” Steve said.

You did a quick take from the corner of your eye and saw him preparing to stand. “No, don’t,” you rushed out. “Really, it’s okay, Steve.” You rinsed off the plate mechanically, willing everyone to stay away, for your motions to stay clean and precise, and for the tears pooling and blurring your vision to spill already so they might dry up before anyone noticed.

“You did the cooking, sweetheart. Least we can do is clean up.”

“She ain’t gonna listen, pal.” Bucky drew closer until his voice, smooth and subdued, came from just over your shoulder. “Hey, stop. Let me.” You could spy the gleam of the dishes he carried through the reflection in the window over the sink.

“I’m fine. Just leave them there.” You screwed your eyes shut to get the tears to spill until finally, they did.

The used plates appeared on the counter space to your left with a _clink_. Then rough but gentle hands—one flesh and one metal—were suddenly hot and heavy on your waist, pulling you away from the sink.

“Let me,” he said again. “I’ll take care of the cleaning. You did your part. Go and get the movie ready or something.”

You floundered. Of their own accord, your eyes flitted up to the reflection in the window. Knowing blue eyes pupil-ridden from the soft light of the kitchen looked right back at you. In his eyes was a seldom-seen glint that would have been unreadable to you just weeks ago, before Steve had spoken with you by the lake.

“Or how ’bout some fresh air?” Bucky said so softly you weren’t sure Steve was able to hear.

The lump in your throat was insurmountable. All you could do was nod.

After a long moment, his hands slid from your waist. He stepped up to the sink, piling the other dishes in before stopping the water and grabbing the sponge. He didn’t look at you again, not even through the reflection.

You turned to Steve, certain enough he wouldn’t be able to see the drying tear stains on your cheeks from the mild distance. He stood at the table, wiping it down with leisurely movements before meeting your eye. He gave no outward indication that he’d watched the exchange between you and Bucky—until the ghost of a reserved smile appeared at the corner of his lips.

“I’ll, uh, I’ll be outside.” You pointed uselessly at the back door.

Steve carried on with his task. “No problem.”

As soon as you made it to the back porch, you wiped your runny nose with your sleeve. You paced absently, avoiding the section of the porch that came into view of the window above the sink where Bucky was currently stationed. To your fortune, the porch swing was all the way at the other end.

Taking refuge on the refurbished swing, you gazed out at the moonlit night. The lakeshore was a little farther out, but you could make out the dock. The crickets chirped their nightly ritual and the breeze rustled through the leaves and through your hair.

The back door opened.

You sat to attention, praying it wasn’t Steve.

It was Steve.

He came out at an unassuming pace, shutting the door behind him where you could make out the muffled sounds of running water and clinking silverware.

You didn’t want him to see you like this. Not again.

“What are you doing?” you said. “Aren’t we watching a movie?”

“We can always do that later. If I don’t pass out soon enough, that is. I always liked sleep when I could catch it, but now I like it like nothing else. Anyway, I thought you might like some company. But you tell me to go and I’ll go.”

“I’m not going to tell you to go in your own house,” you muttered.

“Oh, I’m well used to it at my age.” He chuckled, sounding as though he was recalling a slew of memories.

You wished he’d stop making references to his age. To all the years that passed that you weren’t witness to.

He gestured to the swing. “May I?”

Deep, incurable shame washed over you. “Of course, Steve. You don’t have to ask.”

He sat beside you, frailty rattling his bones. You had to look away.

“Taking in the view?” He nodded toward the lake.

“It’s beautiful. You picked a good place.”

“Sure did. Reminds me of the summers the family used to spend at the lake before everyone grew up and got too busy.”

“Did Anna and Joey ever go back?” You’d learned his children’s names after seeing the pictures he’d brought with him and hung up in the living room. They had to be in their seventies by now.

“Occasionally, though it was never quite the same.”

“Do they know you’re here?”

“They know. They know everything by now. And they’re okay. They’re really the best, you know, the best any father could ask for. And the grandchildren—” He let out a rush of breath. “They’re all grown up too, with some going off and having little ones of their own. Funny how it all works.”

“I’m sure you were a great dad.”

“Ah, well, you’d have to ask Anna and Joey about that.”

“A whole clan of Rogers. You really did it, Steve. You had a family.”

“Best thing I’ve ever done with my time here on this earth.” He turned to you with a note of dry humor. “Not including all those times I teamed up with a bunch of ragtag folks to save it from destruction, of course. It’s because of all those times I was even able to go back.”

You found yourself lost in thought. “I can’t believe it’s really over. After everything, all that destruction…all that pain…no more Thanos. It’s over.”

“The world changed. We just did our best to change it back.”

“But some things can never go back to how they were.” You nodded to yourself. “I’m happy for you, Steve. Truly. And no matter how stupid and selfish I get, no matter how entitled I manage to sound…I’m really happy for you. You owed me nothing, absolutely nothing. Your decision was your own and I accept that—I need to accept that. You went out and got the life you always wanted.”

“And how ’bout you?”

“What about me?”

“What’s the life you always wanted?”

“Oh, Steve, please. Not everyone wants the same thing out of life. Maybe essentially we all want the same things, but they might come in different forms.”

“I know, darling, I know. But not wanting something and not believing it to be within reach are two different things. And sometimes minds change, and sometimes they don’t. So humor an old man’s curiosity for a second, would you? Where do you see yourself going now?”

“Well, now, that’s a different question.”

“Feel free to answer either one, then.”

“Now, I have no idea. Right now, it’s just trying to get by minute by minute, day by day. I’m not sure I have the energy for anything else.”

“Just please, dear, promise me something.”

“What?”

“That you won’t hold yourself back on my account. I won’t have you missing out just because you think that’s the only way to get me to stay with you. If you’re going to choose one way or the other, make sure it’s for you and no one else.”

Your chuckle was devoid of any humor. “Then what was that talk about me and Bucky? Sure felt like you were trying to sway me in one particular direction there.”

“Call it the audible musings of an old man. I just want you and him to be happy. That’s all I want.”

“You know it doesn’t work like that, though, right? You can’t just say, ‘oh, turns out this guy has feelings for you; therefore, it’s inevitable you’ll magically grow to return them and you’ll live happily ever after.’ It doesn’t work like that.”

“I’m not saying it does. And I wouldn’t say it to just anyone. I’m only saying it because at this point in my life, I like to think I’ve picked up a few things, one of them being how it looks when two people might do well together, whether they know it or not.”

You sighed.

He rested a hand on yours. “Forgive me. I don’t want to overstep my bounds. As I said, the choice is yours and yours alone. I just hoped I might be of some help along the way.”

You remained silent.

With a final pat to your hand, he rose. “Now, best be getting back inside. Buck’s probably wondering what’s holding us up out here.”

“I think I’m going to stay out here a bit longer. Tell him I’ll be in soon?”

“Will do.” He headed for the door.

“Steve?”

He stopped and turned. “Yeah, honey?”

“Your serum. It’s supposed to slow the aging process, right?”

“Supposedly.”

“Do you know by how much?”

He shook his head. “’Fraid I can’t say I do.”

“But you said…you said you’d be around for a while?”

His mouth tilted up. “I’m counting on it. After all, I’m looking pretty spry for a fella who’s past the hundred-year mark, aren’t I?”

You gave a feeble nod and were settling back in your seat when he spoke again.

“And sweetheart? Don’t ever let me hear you try to apologize for yourself again. You have a right to what you feel, and Lord knows I didn’t make it any easier on any of you. Let yourself feel all of it, even if it’s at my expense. Just don’t be too hard on yourself. Okay?”

You were without words, but it seemed he didn’t need them. Without further ado, he reentered the house and softly shut the door after himself.

After some time, you followed suit and joined the men in the living room where they chatted quietly.

“Buck said you were the one who picked out the movie. Should’ve known.” Steve threw out a sardonic smirk from the armchair.

“What? I’m in the mood for something feel-good, okay? Sue me.” You settled onto the couch by Bucky, who held out the fleece throw blanket. After a quick smile of gratitude, you offered to share, but he simply shook his head.

“Remember now, don’t be surprised if I conk out,” Steve said.

“What, miss your daily dose of old man naps this afternoon?” Bucky asked.

“Now just a minute, wise-ass, you’re just as old as I am.”

“But looks like I wasn’t the one who forgot to moisturize, was I?”

“Always such a jerk,” Steve said with a fond shake of the head.

“Always such a punk,” countered Bucky.

Smile edging at your lips, you pressed play and melted into the cushions. The movie played without much distraction, save for the remarks from the men here and there about how out of the loop they were and continued to be. At one point, Bucky got up from the couch and came back with enough ice cream for everyone, though Steve refused.

“Still hungry?” you asked Bucky as you accepted the small bowl of mint chocolate chip.

“Super soldiers gotta eat,” he replied.

As the night progressed, you did your best to be present, though you were unable to keep your thoughts from wandering. With the way you were angled toward him, you were able to look at Bucky without being obvious about it. The cool blue hues emitting from the screen illuminated his characteristically stoic face, casting a hazy glow over his handsome features.

It shouldn’t have been a surprise when he turned his gaze on you. “What?” he mouthed.

“Nothing. Your beard’s longer.”

He huffed out a breath of amusement. “That your subtle way of saying you think I should shave?”

You shrugged. “No.”

His gaze remained calm and astute, but you still managed to feel like you were the specimen and he was the scientist on the other end of the microscope. You were the first to look away, using Steve as an excuse. But when you turned, you found him fast asleep in the armchair.

“He’s sleeping,” you said.

“Fell asleep a while ago. Didn’t have the heart to wake him.”

“He can’t stay there all night. It won’t be good for his back.”

The cushions shifted. You looked up to find Bucky edging past the coffee table to get to Steve.

“What are you doing?”

“Bringing him to bed.”

“Can you carry him?” It was a stupid question. Of course he was able to carry him.

“I’ve handled worse,” he said wryly, gathering Steve’s prone form into his arms with an endearing amount of care that had your heart twisting.

“He’d kill you if he found out you carried him like that,” you whispered, rising to your feet.

“At his age, I’d like to see the punk try.” He stood upright with one arm under Steve’s back and the other under his knees. Looking upon the stark picture of this yet unfamiliar Steve in such a manner, so tender and fragile, had your heart quickly lodging itself somewhere in your throat, and you had to turn away.

“I’ll clean up.” You busied yourself with collecting the used bowls from the coffee table.

“You’re not finishing up the movie?”

“No, I was getting pretty tired anyway. Think I’m just going to go to bed. You should finish the movie, though.” You headed for the kitchen.

“No, I was thinking of calling it a night.”

“Okay,” you threw over your shoulder, thankful he couldn’t see how your eyes burned with fresh tears. “Need any help with Steve?”

“Nah, I got it.”

You turned on the faucet. “’Kay. Night, then.”

His reply came a beat too late. “Night.”

You washed the dishes, listening for the sounds of Bucky’s departure, but the man knew how to be light on his feet. You chanced a glance over your shoulder only once you finished up.

With the coast clear, you crossed into the living room and reached down for the pillows and blanket set aside for Bucky. There were only two bedrooms and you’d been given the spare room. Both you and Bucky had refused to hear it when Steve tried to offer his room.

After setting up the couch for Bucky, you turned off the television and made sure the windows open from before were locked shut. Then you slipped on your shoes and light jacket, grabbed the spare key from under the potted plant on the front porch and locked the door before heading around the back, stooping to collect some small rocks along the way.

The lake gleamed in its indifference, uncaring of any affairs above its undisturbed surface. Releasing a long-withheld sigh, you plopped down at the dock’s end, feet dangling over the edge. You sat there for an indeterminate age, tossing rocks into the water with halfhearted effort.

It was how Bucky found you later that night.

His footsteps weren’t overtly loud, but neither was he trying to mask them. The tread of his boots came to a stop right at your back.

“What’re you doing?”

“Nothing.” You threw another rock into the lake. Then, tossing a glance over your shoulder, you took in his black jacket and the hands dug into the pockets, his worn, dark jeans and tousled brown hair. “Can’t sleep?”

“Never.”

“Want to sit?”

He deliberated on that. Then he lowered himself down on your right, legs hanging off the edge. You held your hand out in wordless offering. Short blunt nails came into contact with your palm as he scraped out a smattering of rocks from your hand, but he made no move to fly them out toward the water.

“Can’t sleep either?” he asked.

“No.”

It fell silent.

“He shouldn’t be alone like this,” you said. “If something happens to him, it could take days for someone to find out.”

“He knows what he’s doing. He’ll be fine.”

“You don’t know that, Bucky.”

“None of us know anything. Doesn’t mean we can let that keep us from living. Look at me. A stone-cold killer for hire at worst and a recovering brainwashing victim at best. God knows what I’m even doing here right now. I don’t deserve any of this.”

“Don’t say that, Bucky,” you said sharply.

“Doesn’t stop it from being true,” was his cool response. “The life Steve went and made for himself? That was never in the cards for me. I’m not that guy. Not anymore.”

“But you and Steve, you’re strong in ways most people have never had to be. Both taken from a life you thought to be yours, forced into another time and place.”

And for Bucky, tortured, hurt, abused, but you could bring yourself to say none of that.

“But you both somehow made it,” you continued. “At least, for all outward appearances you did. No one’s stupid enough to think things are all back to normal, and maybe they never will be, but you survived. A lot of people wouldn’t.”

“Surviving isn’t the same thing as living.”

“No, it’s not. But we’re here for you. All of us. And if you think you’re some sort of monster because of the things you did, you have to remember, it wasn’t you. Whatever you thought was or wasn’t in the cards for you, things are different now. There’s no telling where any of us might go from here. You’re going to be okay, Buck.”

“Maybe. But so are you.”

You let out a clipped laugh. “I don’t know if I’m ever going to be okay. If I’ll ever be…normal. It all happened so fast. One second he was there— _our_ Steve—and the next, he was…someone else.”

“He’s still our Steve.”

“No, he isn’t. Our Steve was supposed to stay with us. This is someone else’s Steve. He lived a whole life without us in a different world and now _I_ for some stupid reason feel like we’ve stolen him from where he was supposed to be all along. God, how messed up is this?”

He sighed through his nose, mouth set in a tight line. “Look, I get why you’re angry. Hell, a part of me’s still angry too. Some days I feel I could put a hole through the wall, easy.”

“It all just happened so fast, Bucky. Too fast for me to process.”

“I get it. Okay? I get it. More than anyone else. Only thing keeping me from going off the rails was the fact that I knew.”

“Yeah. You knew.” Your tone turned slightly accusatory.

His eyes narrowed. “Yeah? Thought we talked about this on the ride over.”

“I know, but—” You refrained from voicing how you wished Steve had told you too. But you’d told him you were entitled to nothing, not like Bucky. And knowing beforehand might have hurt just as bad. “Never mind.”

“If you think it was easy for me, you’re wrong. I’d gotten my best friend back just to lose him again. But he can’t be my crutch forever. Like you said, somehow I survived, and now, I gotta learn to be okay. I just wanted him to be happy, whatever that meant. He’s done a hell of a lot more for me than anyone in their right mind would do for anyone, too much for what I was worth. And if he decided staying behind was what he needed, I knew I had to stand by him. That was it.”

Again, you were overcome with shame. “You’re right. He needed to be happy. I know we didn’t lose him—at least, not like that. And maybe I should count my blessings ’cause I don’t know what I would’ve done if that actually happened, if he’d actually _died_. But I can’t help but still feel like we somehow lost him.”

“In a lot of ways, we did. But he made that choice for himself.”

“I know. I would never try to take that from him. It’s just…”

“Doesn’t mean you have to like it.”

“I’m selfish.”

“You’re human.”

“Yeah, a selfish human.”

“You aren’t human if you aren’t a little selfish.”

“I’m jealous of a woman who’s been dead for seven years. How messed up is that?”

“Believe me, I know messed up, and that? Bet my life you wouldn’t be able to find someone in your position who wouldn’t feel the exact same way.”

“Why can’t I be _good_ like Steve? Why can’t I just be happy for him? But I am, I _am_ happy for him, it’s just—”

“That happiness comes with anger and resentment. I know. Listen, you and I both know the guy’s in a league all his own. Not saying he’s some sort of saint—he sure as hell ain’t that—but he’s one of those guys that’s hard to come by in any decade. He’s just as scared as the rest of us, but he’s strong enough to plow through it like the stubborn bastard he’s been his whole life.”

“I thought that’s what he was doing when he made a new life here. Or at least that’s what it seemed like he was doing.”

“He did seem happy for a while, didn’t he? At ease, at least.”

“I just thought we were his home.”

“We were. We were his other home. He tell you about Peggy? How she knew he’d eventually come back here when the time was right, supported it? She knew he had family here too.”

“Really?”

He nodded. “They didn’t forget about us. Either of ’em.”

You mulled it over. “It’s just scary, all this change.”

“Things change. Me and him, we’re sorta the poster boys for change. But he ever say anything about wanting to go back? Any hint that he was thinking about staying behind?”

“No. No.” Then… “I don’t know. Maybe. Maybe he saw something, something that made him change his mind. Or maybe his mind had always been made up and he just needed that extra push of whatever it was he saw or did.”

“You really want to know?”

“Why, you know something?”

“No, I’m asking. You really want to know what made him change his mind?”

You tossed another rock into the lake. “No. Knowing won’t change anything. And I don’t think I need to know. Maybe it’s his secret to keep. Heaven knows we all have those.”

Bucky stared unseeingly at the water. “I just hope that world was everything he wanted it to be. And who knows, maybe what he did had ripple effects we don’t even know about. Maybe in that world, he never let all those problems he had to deal with here get so far over there. Maybe I was free, and I went back to being a dumb, normal guy with a dumb, normal life.”

You hadn’t thought about that. You couldn’t even fathom it. “You’re right. My god, you’re right.” You groaned and dug your face into your hands. “I’m so sorry, Bucky.”

“The hell you have to be sorry for?”

“I’m always so caught up in myself. I didn’t even think about what might’ve been different in that world, how things might’ve changed for you.”

“Well, it makes no difference either way. The guy from that world is a different guy. His world’s not mine. This is the one we’re left to deal with.”

You drew away from your hands to find his gaze still on the water, his jaw tight. It remained silent until finally, he spoke with quiet resignation.

“You really love him, don’t you?”

But what could you say to that?

“I do. Or I did—I do. I know he’s different now and it’s weird, but a part of me can’t stop seeing him as he was before and—” You broke off and shook your head. “He’ll never leave me, Buck. He’ll always be important to me. This sort of thing, it’s not something you can just get over.”

“I know.”

With a short tentative reach, you took Bucky’s metal hand, though you didn’t fully encompass it with yours, instead more or less clinging to the grooves of his palm. In response, his fingers curled in just enough to let you know he accepted the touch.

“Thank you for being with me, Bucky. Seriously, I don’t know how I’d be able to get through any of this if you weren’t also here. Thank you.”

His fingers curled in a fraction more. “You’re the one who’s here with _me_ , you know. You got nothing to thank me for.”

Later, you gave him a parting smile in the living room as he took off his watch to set on the side table before he had to settle in for the night. He smiled back.

Traversing the narrow hallway, you passed Steve’s room and resisted the urge to check in on him like he was a small child. Then something on the hall table caught your eye, moonlight glimmering on its reflective surface.

It was a framed photo of Steve and his family at the beach. In it, Steve carried what must have been an eight-year-old Anna on his shoulders while Peggy bent down nearby and snuggled against the side of a giggling six-year-old Joey’s face. No one looked at the camera. It was a candid photo, a single snapshot of the joy he’d been able to find.

Tracing the photo with a teary smile, you set it down gingerly and turned for your room.

You were lost, but you were safe. Safe in the knowledge that Bucky was out there and Steve was right across the hall.

You settled under the covers, stared into the dark and forced deep breaths until at last, maybe hours later, your eyes grew too tired and your mind went numb. Wanted or not, the sun would show its face again and you’d have to start all over. But for the next eight hours or so, you would know a tiny fraction of something like peace.

Clinging with a delicate hold to such a thought, you found sleep.


End file.
